


A Script of Echoes

by Panultimate



Category: Original Work
Genre: Coming Out, F/F, Girl x Girl, Lesbians, Original Story - Freeform, Sapphic, Short Story, Slice of Life, original fic - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 15:42:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2856251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Panultimate/pseuds/Panultimate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A conversation between a pair of young girls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Script of Echoes

"So, do you like girls?"

She asks way too casually. The music is too quiet and I want to turn it up, but now would be the worst moment to do that. My ankle suddenly itches. Why hadn't I gone to the bathroom earlier?

"Nah," I reply, way too casually.

"Hmm."

"Why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering."

I turn the music up a little, then turn it back down to the original volume when I realize that I didn't really want it to be louder. "Do you?"

"Nah," she says with a short laugh.

Neither of us elaborate. I scroll through the playlist on her iPod, not looking for any song in particular.

"Aren't we a little old for sleepovers?"

I pick a song, and look for something else to change. Maybe my shoelaces need to be retied. "I don't think so."

"Neither do I."

"Why do you ask?" It's like running through a script with a canyon. Get your cue, try your line, hear your echo, try again. Have to perfect the lines before the performance.

"Other girls at school still have them. But I think they talk about boys."

"Boys are dumb," I say. "Not that those girls are any better."

"My sister says no thirteen year old is a good catch. She's proud of me that I don't have a crush."

"Hmm," I say. I haven't met her eyes in several minutes. My jeans are torn at the knees and I'm picking apart the stray threads.

"Mareesa Castro isn't a virgin anymore."

"I'm not surprised."

She laughs because no one was. "And neither is Dani Wilbur."

"I am surprised." I cast her a quick smile, which she returns.

"I'm not gay," she says. "I don't like girls. I don't want to have sex with them."

"I know." The holes in my jeans will soon be complete.

"I just think that some are really pretty."

"That's the point."

"The point?" She repeats.

"Of being a girl in middle school. Trying on makeup and nice clothes. We're all trying to be pretty, except Dani Wilbur."

There's a long silence. The recital wasn't supposed to go like this. We were supposed to laugh it off and move on. I glance at her and she quickly looks away.

"So you don't... you don't get crushes on girls?"

I hesitate. It turns into something longer than a pause of hesitation and I'm well aware of the song playing and that it's one neither of us like. I want to change it, but I don't. She takes the iPod from me and changes the song, then hands it back. Her fingers brush mine.

"I'm not sure," I say.

"Yeah?"

"Sometimes it's hard to tell. I've never had a crush before, so I don't know if it's... I mean, girls are pretty."

"Yeah. Pretty."

We both like this song. I try not to think about that.

"But pretty is different than wanting to kiss someone," she says.

I should have brought a water bottle. My throat is dry. "It is."

"Have you ever wanted to kiss a girl?"

We're not just dancing around the subject. We've been forming a fairy ring, dancing faster and faster, slowly closing in, and slowly coming to a point where we can't back out. We're trapping ourselves in the spinning lights and I know I really shouldn't be comparing this to something so magical, but the danger feels about accurate.

"Yeah," I say.

"Who?"

"A couple. Dani Wilbur, for one."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Who else?"

"Who have you wanted to kiss?"

"Mady Charleston."

"Really?" I ask. We're back to the script.

"Yeah."

"Who else?"

"Your turn."

I can't do this. I can't say no one else, because I don't want to close it off, but I can't say the truth either. I can't just tell her that I want to kiss her, that I've thought about it when we share the same bed and she looks so peaceful when she sleeps. I can't just tell her about when we change into our day clothes in the morning that I sometimes wish she'd turn around before she was dressed and that I've tried to convince myself it's just curiosity, since I only have brothers, but I know, and we both know, that it's not.

"I can't say that yet."

"Oh. Okay." I wonder if she actually is disappointed, or if I just hear that in her voice because it's what I want.


End file.
